Reaver is as Reaver does SLASH
by ToetalNnyfanatik
Summary: Sparrow made two mistakes. One was letting Reaver live. Two was firing him. Set after Fable 3, a Prince/Reaver fanfiction with pure smut to begin and no cliche fanfiction endings, plot twists, mary sues.
1. Three months later

A/N: I really lament the lack of male Hero/Reaver. I love Reaver to pieces, but come on. Stephen Fry wants more gay porn to be written. There will be no old enemy resurrections, no cliche kidnapings, hardly any court affairs as they are boring, and I can guarantee there will be a defined lack of an all knowing OC. It will be straight through Male Hero (I like the name of Sparrow from the second game, even though this is set in the third game verse) and Reaver story. I'm also a sex addicted devil, so smut in the first chapter, but with Reaver, could you assume any less? Jasper is going to be a little ooc, but the rest will stay fine. Sparrow stands at six feet tall, has maroon hair and the sideburns/mustache combination with the dweller face tatt and copper green eyes.

It had been three months. Three months since the Crawler had been banished along with its horrible children. Three months since Sparrow had stabbed his sword through Walter's rib cage with a sickening crunch and the bitter taste of copper in the air. Sparrow sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his two fingers, hoping the tension would ease off of his pounding head. It had also been three months since he had fired Reaver and brought what he thought was happiness to his workers. Turns out the ginger haired ruler was wrong.

Now without Reaver and his economically savvy skills, his people were going to be right back where they were during Logan's rein. Sparrow shut his eyes tightly and forced a calm breath out. His maroon hair had dulled, his copper eyes were so tired they looked bronze...hell he even had those damn stress lines his brother gained, and it's only been three months of paperwork. Cracking an eye open, he shook his head at the mountain of paper work. That just seemed to spur on his headache and he fought the urge to jam his thumbs through his eyes.

He closed his eye and got one second of peace before something else creaked it open again. Someone was in his study, and by the silence, they were not supposed to be here. Slowing his breathing, he shut his eye and mentally collected his Will carefully, making sure nothing in his outward movements gave his plan away. His cautious plan was interrupted by the loud click of a gun right next to his ear.

Letting a small smirk grace his face, he kept perfectly still. "If this isn't Reaver, you're dead. If it is...you're dead." By the time the gun went off, Sparrow was launching himself off his chair to the other side of the room, unleashing lightning bolts and hitting the floor with a roll. He must have over estimated his landing, his head hitting his wall with a thud, pain exploding across the back of his skull with the bright lights and even stars thrown in. Cursing violently, he glanced up right into Reaver's smirking face, a barrel pointed right between his eyes. Sparrow glared, and pushed himself up slightly so he could at least have his back resting on the wall. Not like it would help. "What the hell do you want Reaver." It was less of a question and more of an annoyed statement.

Reaver cocked a brow, and waggled his finger, making a tsk tsk noise. Damn asshole didn't even have the nerve to look abashed for breaking into his castle and pointing a gun at his king. Then again, Sparrow didn't expect him to. It would be nice though. At least his beloved clothes were singed by a stray lightning bolt, but beyond that the silver tongue pirate lacked a single wound. "Is that anyway to talk to the head of Reaver Industries?" "You mean former head of Reaver Industries. By the way, it's called The Human Eco Warrior Association." Reaver's eye twitched, the gun blaring in the confined space of the office.

"Touched a nerve I see." Sparrow grinned, even though his headache had now upgraded to a migraine. And now added to the damage caused by his spells, there was a bullet-hole in his wall. Reaver smirked, jabbing him harshly in the ribs with his cane before keeping it there. Sparrow's grin didn't falter, though one hand did lift up to yank the cane out of his hand. It didn't budge. He scowled, feeling his ribs protest way too much. Revear buffed his nails on his jacket idly, wearing the same damn outfit he did. Sparrow's scowl grew. "Does anything about you change at all?" Reaver didn't even blink. "Whatever do you mean." Bastard didn't even look at him while his drawl assaulted his ears.

"You. You're the same vain, narcistic,-" "Good looking, beautiful, sexy-" "self absorbed, asshole. You're even wearing the same clothes." Reaver deigned him a bored look, covering a yawn with a white gloved hand. "Why should I? I'm wonderful the way I am now." He gave the cane a vicious twist, but Sparrow wouldn't let the sound of pain even enter his thoughts. It would give too much away. Even if it was possible one of his ribs was close to snapping. It was moderately disturbing to see something from the past, even if it were only three months ago, show up again. Hell, even Sparrow's closest friends had changed. Ben came around occasionally for a quick fling in the sack, Page was so busy keeping her temper under control while arranging benefits for the homeless she never had time to sleep, let alone visit. Jasper was still his butler, but hell Sparrow hadn't been sleeping for so long he often snapped at him and sent him away. Not that Jasper really listened to him anyway.

Logan was off in Aurora, not to make amends, but rather to subject himself to the people there in hopes of a form of punishment. In the king's opinion, he had done what had had been needed to be done, but Logan hadn't listened to remained buried in his books. Sabine and Kalin had their own problems leading their people. As for Elise...Sparrow kept himself away from her. She was the biggest reminder of his past. A past with Walter. A shadow fell on his face, and Reaver paused in his buffing of nails. _Well well...it seems all has not been as fabulous for the king as it has been for me..._Reaver ran a casual eye down his visage. Sparrow did appear to be much older, stress lines and an air of a ruler under pressure. Reaver sniffed. He was glad he didn't have to be under such stress. It would do terrible things to his complexion.

"You look terrible." It was the closet thing Reaver could ever say to someone that didn't come off as selfish or uncaring. Sparrow rolled his eyes, tugging at the cane digging into him. "Thank you. Mind moving this?" A harder twist signaled a no. Reaver demurely eyed an imperfect pinky nail. "You haven't even asked me, your guest, if I would like something to drink. Most improper of a host." A chuckle followed by a cough rewarded him. Sparrow fingered the bridge of his nose. His migraine was not ending and Reaver's ill timed, yet amusing, visit was not helping it. Did he say amusing? He meant annoying. "So sorry my dear _friend._" Reaver played with a chunk of bangs and gave his disgustingly charming grin at him. The grin all his little fan girls and boys fawned over. Sparrow found it incredibly fake and it made him want to punch him. The grin widened.

"I shall take your apology into consideration." The cane didn't move. Sparrow wanted to groan. Here he was, a full grown man, no Hero, no KING, of Albion and this, this...philandering man-whore was pinning him down with a cane to the wall of his own study to boot. Theresa must be laughing her blind ass off. Next time he got his hands on her...he heard a chuckle in the back of his head and Sparrow's scowl turned downright murderous. Time for games was over. Reaver cocked an eyebrow at him, finally making eye contact with him before his head snapped back and he felt the back of his glorious, over done hair, hit the floor. Normally when he found himself on his back, he was in for a wonderful oral rendition of carnal desire. Now he blinked up at a very angry man, with a very angry scowl, and a very frightening sword tickling his throat.

Sparrow had even yanked the gun out of his hand. Reaver's hat lay a few feet away, along with the cane. Oh. The cane was broken. Too bad, he could always make his cheerful little orphans to manufacture another. His smug blue eyes wandered up Sparrow's frame, muscles tensed in a scrumptious fashion under his unbuttoned blouse. Hrm...he could just take a sizeable bite out of him. Was that a furry trail on his abdomen? A jab of the sword drew a drop of blood, and Reaver crossed his arms under his head, waiting for the king to realize what position he had put himself in. Sparrow made this adorable confused look on his face. Reaver grinned. "Not that I mind your muscular thighs wrapped around me while your very scary sword, but if you wanted this we could easily do this-" His sleazy pick up line was interuppted by a knock at the door.

Sparrow didn't even turn his head as Jasper came in with the trey of dinner he knew would not be eaten. "Master I have-oh. Excuse me. If you would be so kind as to eat before carnal persuasions, I would be most pleased. you will need the energy." Sparrow's shade of blush matched his hair as Reaver laughed obnoxiously and slid a hand up the side of his thigh. "I will make sure he eats, my good man." Nodding, Jasper hid a small grin at his master's discomfort before bowing his way out of the awkward situation. He felt no need to worry over his king. After all, he had bested a god of the darkness. What could Reaver possibly do?

Reaver could do a lot, and he was attempting to show off his abilities to a shell shocked Sparrow. "Come now, the old man meant no harm. Now where were we..." His eyes grew more interested, fogging slightly with desire, fingers playing with his pants leg, wishing he could be sliding his fingers on skin. Sparrow growled, copper eyes snapping with fire as one hand reached down and grabbed his wrist with enough force to almost break bones. "Don't even think about it." Reaver cocked a brow, small heart wrinkling. "Don't tell me the king was waiting fro marriage before consummating the flesh..." Dear gods of the Shadow court below save him from virgins.

Sparrow's jaw was so tight it could break, his body coiled with anger. "No. Not that that's any of your damn bussiness. Keep your diseased hands off of me." Reaver laughed. "I would but you seem to be holding my diseased hand." Sparrow's eyes narrowed and a half snarl graced his lips. Reaver inhaled deeply with his nose, happy to see his king so aggravated and bestial. It was always a treat to truly annoy people to the point of rage. Reaver clucked his tongue and leaned up as far as he was allowed. "Whatever should your butler think when you can't even seem to keep your hands" The rest of his sarcastic tirade was effectively stopped by a hand grabbing his jaw followed by rough lips assaulting his own.

Reaver smirked into the kiss, keeping his eyes open while Sparrow bit at his bottom lip before swiping a hot tongue along the small wound. Sparrow kept his eyes shut, knowing if he looked he'd quit. He didn't know why he did it. It could be the lack of physical contact, Ben hadn't been around for four months, and Sparrow was too busy and tired to chase down anything else. Self pleasure barely helped, if at all. It could have been the simple fact of wanting a constant in a new era of change. It was most likely to just shut the infuriating man up, his words and tone of voice just adding to the pounding of his head.

Sparrow growled softy, sinking slightly so his body was more molded onto Reaver's, feeling the blood rush to his dick with every suck and nip Reaver gave him. Reaver coughed and pulled away. Sparrow stared. "You can't be serious." Reaver cocked a brow. "You have a sword in my throat." Bastard didn't even have the grace to appear flustered and his breath barely shook. Sparrow felt like he had just gone through the cave with the Crawler all over again, he was sweating buckets and panting. Shaking his head he dropped his sword, but slid his hand down to the base of his throat. "If you try anything funny..." Reaver rolled his eyes.

"You shame me. Do you think I would try and stop this act of carnal desire just to kill you?" Sparrow shrugged. "You have a point. But if you move for that gun, I'm cutting off things." Reaver grinned, his free hand reaching up to pull Sparrow down. He loved this position he found himself in, sex always being a welcomed distraction. He grabbed him by the base of the blouse, yanking him down to a very toothy grin of Balverine porportions. Sparrow habitually closed his eyes and went with it, keeping one hand on his throat while the other loosened its grip. Reaver freed his hand slowly and rubbed small sensuous circles with his thumb, sliding his hand up towards Sparrow's crotch before sliding it away again.

Sparrow held in a small moan at the no doubt older man's ministrations, skin prickling at the feel of the calloused fingers through his pants which were quickly getting too tight for comfort. Reaver smirked before opening his mouth, allowing Sparrow to slide his tongue in. Sparrow poured all his anger and stress into his actions, fiercely biting his lip again before sucking on it harshly. Reaver had a small flush to his face, but it would be useless in mentioning it as he would deny it anyway. He smirked and slid his hand up to dance out a rhtym with his fingers along the seams of his pants, resting his hand right near Sparrow's obvious hardness.

He pulled back again, chuckling at Sparrow's frustrated grunt. "Would't this be so much more scandalous naked?" He tugged at the king's shirt. Sparrow panted down at him before removing the offending garment and standing up to remove his pants as well. He violently gestured at Reaver to do the same. "Don't go near that gun." Reaver rolled his eyes before standing up and cracking his neck. He carefully removed each article of clothing and folding it neatly before setting it down. Half to actually keep his expensive clothes clean, and the other half to infuriate Sparrow.

Sparrow snarled at him, eyes glued to his ass as Reaver bent over. Yea, there was a reason the whores and boys swarmed Millifields in hope of getting in on those sex parties Reaver threw constantly. Sparrow did little to stop them, if anything he wishes he could have the free lifestyle to pursue such follies. Damn monarchy. Reaver swung his hips lightly, just enough to give a little sway before he stood and turned around with a shit eating grin. Sparrow's eye twitched, and he reached for Reaver, who surprisingly backed off. "Hold on now, I want to see what you have to offer first." Sparrow rolled his eyes but refrained from crossing his arms. Or setting his hand on his hips like a girl.

"Make it fast." Reaver started at his face then let his eyes slide slowly down his body, taking everything in. Sparrow's skin had lost some of the golden luster it once had, must be from all the desk work inside. His muscles thankfully stayed the same, along with the weapon scars criss crossing his chest and sides. His jaw was set stubbornly, with a charming dash of stubble to compliment his sideburnstache. His dark eyes snapped at him while Reaver paced around him to check everything out. All in all, Reaver could hardly find a flaw with the man, even his atrocious tattoos seemed to be a part of him that added to his sexual attractiveness.

He let a hand smooth its way down his side, feeling the tremble of the muscles and the fervor. He smiled thinly. Like a horse before a race...Sparrow's dick had not lost an ounce of hardness to his gaze. If anything it had grown, seeing as his eyes were glued to Reavers naked body also. Reaver traced a gunshot scar on his shoulder blade on the back before leaning in and kissing it, one hand sliding down to cup his ass cheek while the other ghosted around to land on his navel, right above his dick. Sparrow growled, muscles tensing up. "Reaver..."

Reaver hushed him with murmurs and cooes, continuing his actions. Sparrow stiffened some more, one arm coming up to grab his wrist on his navel. Reaver chuckled. "My my, does the king not trust his subjects?" He leaned up and kissed the nape of his neck before being whirled into a wall, his back hitting it with a smack. Reaver blew a kiss at Sparrow, noting the growl it received. "Enough of this shit." He grabbed Reaver roughly by the jaw again, sealing their mouths together in another scorching kiss. Reaver closed his eyes slightly, but not all the way. Never all the way.

One hand was pinned above his head while the other was still groping Sparrow's ass, and Reaver yanked them closer so their skin could touch. He purred as he felt the taller man's dick rub up on his, the sweat on their skin making the friction less uncomfortable and more sensual. He wrapped a skinny leg around one of his, smirking when Sparrow broke away to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, biting and leaving several bruises. Reaver dug his hand into his ass, then moved it upward and dug his nails in, breathing heavily at the feel of Sparrow shuddering in rapture.

He let out a breathy gasp as Sparrow sucked harshly at the juncture of neck and shoulder, tangling his free hand in his ruby locks and snaring his fingers in deep, keeping his head there. he let his head tilt back, his eyes sliding shut and his smile widening. They opened when his wrist was released and the hot air was replaced with the feeling of coldness of absence. Sparrow was swiping all the items off of the study table, but carefully set the trey of food on the floor across the room. Reaver appraised his ass and came up behind him, arms wrapping around him and trapping him. "So ready for the real games, hrmmm?" He bit his earlobe, and blew small puffs of air at the shell of his ear. Sparrow scowled, swallowing thickly and bracing himself on the table.

He shook his head then looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "Reaver?" Reaver was busy tracing the cleft of his ass with a finger and didn't look up. "Yes luv." Damn this man had the tightest ass. Sparrow clucked his tongue. "You want inside me don't you." It was like a shot of pure adrenaline hit him, blood pumped straight to his dick at the sound of those words. Reaver slide a middle finger slowly into him. "I already am, _sire_." Sparrow choked, fighting th instinct to throw Reaver off and away from him. He ground his teeth together and rested his face into his forearms. "You're supposed to warn me, you arrogant ass."

Reaver shrugged, slipping a hand to handle his dick and begin pumping it. "This help?" Sparrow choked again, this time because of the feeling of another's hand on his cock

Sparrow bit down on his knuckle, feeling a second finger force its way in. Damn if it didn't hurt like a beast. Reaver yawned. Sparrow's eye twitched and he craned his neck as far as he could to glare at him. "You did not just do that." Reaver smirked. "Fraid so, dear boy." Snarling, Sparrow reached back and grabbed at him. "Stick it in then, see if you can still yawn at me." Sparrow's eyes widened at the words that came out of his own mouth before Reaver took him up on his offer and shoved his rather large dick inside him ruthlessly.

If Sparrow thought two fingers were hell, then this must be the seventh layer of it. He wanted to rip something in half it hurt so bad. Panting, he scratched uselessly at the table top as Reaver thrust in and out of him. It wasn't getting any better either until Reaver snorted and went back to stroking his cock in time to the thrusts. Sparrow cursed and spastically jerked his hips into Reaver's hand. Reaver could barely chuckle as he worked his way in and out of the insatiable tightness. He grunted and snapped his hips downward, rewarded with a small moan. Snickering, he snapped his hips again, smacking into Sparrow's skin. "My my, feels good doesn't it?"

"Shut the hell up and make me cum already," Sparrow snarled, back of his neck flush with embarrasment. He heard another chuckle as the hand on his dick slowed the stroking, thumb massaging the tip of his dick. Sparrow choked, muffling his moans into his forearms. Damn Reaver. Damn him to hell. Reaver groaned lightly, idly leaning down and kissing his spine while he thrusted, languidly biting at the back of his neck. Sparrow hunched his shoulders back, then relaxed slightly under the feel of his lips. "Don't leave marks." _Too late for that..._Reaver figured what the king couldn't see wouldn't hurt him. there was already several love bites all over his back. Shaking his head, he picked up he pace, feeling his legs starting to tremble with the effort of standing in the hunched over position for so long.

Though it really only seemed like they had just started fucking before it was over. Ah well. If they had a repeat occurence, which Reaver knew they would, he'd pull out the kinks later. He mildly wondered if Sparrow was allergic to Balverine fur. He slid in at his faster speed, roughly jerking the man off in his calloused hand, feeling Sparrow stiffen and hearing a small gasp as sperm erupted through his fingers. Reaver only had a second of a victorious smirk before he was emptying his load into the spasming muscles inside Sparrow. Panting, he doubled over and slouched ontop of the slightly taller man, body content not to move for a good while.

Sparrow felt numb. Oh he felt the orgasm, in fact it felt like a lightning strike to his spine had fried all of his pleasure neurons in his body. but besides that, his muscles were jelly and the table was really comfortable. The only problem was the man using him as a bed and his back was cramping up. His headache had gone away, so there was a pro for this impulsive action. Scowling, he slung his shoulder back, hoping Reaver would get the point and move off of him. He didn't but two arms did circle his waist. Sparrow rolled his eyes. "Get the hell off of me." Reaver fake snored before taking an elbow to the stomach with a grunt. Stretching he yawned an finger combed his hair back to perfection. "So touchy. Are you like this with every plaything you screw?"

Sparrow ignored him and limped over to the sofa, laying down gingerly. His arse felt like it had been ripped open. He opened his mouth to snap at Reaver when the man slipped onto said sofa but figured it wasn't worth fighting. He shut his eyes and pretended to be sleeping, but Reaver was too spot on for that. "I want Reaver Industries back." Sparrow chuckled, throat hoarse and tone still low pitched. "Because of one fuck? I'm not that cheap." Reaver rolled his eyes and set the gun next to his temple. Sparrow yawned. "I'll condsider it." The gun didn't budge. Sighing, Sparrow cracked open one eye. "We'll talk about it tommorow. Let me my sleep."

Reaver pulled back his Dragonstomper and snickered. "Yes, my queen." A hand lazily batted at him before flopping back down. "Go to sleep and shut the hell up." Sparrow was glad to find his headache completely gone. He felt so relaxed it wasn't even funny. He didn't fight Reaver when he felt a hand on his inner thigh, but he did dig an elbow backwards after he felt stroking. "Not now. In the morning." Reaver huffed. "Where'd all that Hero stamina go?" "The same place my Hero lack of responsibilites went. Now leave me be woman and go to sleep." Reaver glared but let his body curl around the king's. "You're lucky I hate sleeping alone." Silence. Peeking over Sparrow's hunched shoulder, he saw the ruler had passed out. His eyes twitched, and he smacked his lips, but there was no sign of waking. Snorting, Reaver fell into half a nap, one eye cracked while one hand curled around his gun.

A/N: I love writing for Reaver. So very muchhhhhhhhh damn snarky sexy fellow. Next time they screw, there will be more extendedness and kinks, but hey this was just a stress fuck. They're supposed to be short. More chapters up soonnnnnnnnn as I'm immersed in playing Fable 3 again and my attention span should stay with it.


	2. Get the hell off my couch

A/N: So, first chapter done. Now the second is too. Oh, my mom bought eggs and we have nine chicks. The names are Rocky, Starbucks, Chubbs, Lazlo, Hamilton, Medusa, Zeke, Skunk, and Coon. I named them all obviously. On a side note, my friend almost got laid but whiskey dick stopped it from happening. I died laughing. If you don't know what it is...google it. I'm not your dictionary.

Sparrow grimaced and smacked his lips. Feels like something crawled in my mouth and died, he mentally complained, smacking his lips again. The sun fought the heavy black out curtains he had in place on the windows; filling the space with a grey light. Yawning, he leaned his head back, making contact with...a something. What the something was he wasn't sure. It almost felt like a chest. It couldn't be...craning his neck back he frowned. Oh yeah. He and Reaver fucked last night. The older man was watching him too, one eye creaked open and his lip in a sneer. "Good morning Princess."

Groaning, Sparrow rolled back over and nuzzled his face into the sofa cushions. If the damn problem wouldn't go away on its own, he was going to go back to sleep and ignore it. Reaver frowned, disappointed the bait was taking. He shrugged then viscously pinched his ass. Sparrow yelped and swung an elbow back, effectively clipping Reaver in the chest and shoving him half off the sofa and half on the floor. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" Sparrow unhooked their legs and dumped the rest of Reaver's naked body on the floor. He glared with the vexation of a lion, with a mane to match, his maroon hair in every direction, and his muscles tensed.

"Someone's a grumpy one in the mornings." Reaver cradled his arms behind his head and blew a kiss at the king from the floor. Sparrow's right eye twitched before his right hand curled into a fist. Reaver yawned from his position, keeping an eye on the ruler as he stretched out his gangly limbs. He wasn't really worried. After all, his Dragonstomper lay half a foot away from him. Sparrow grumbled and rolled away from the edge of the sofa so his back was to him again. Maybe Reaver would have the decency to let him get some more sleep. Sparrow doubted it, but it was worth a shot. Reaver's eyebrow lifted in a delicate manner, a slight tick working its way in his jaw. So far he had been ignored twice, and any sane man or woman would be begging him for a repeat sexcapade. But was this intolerable royal brat begging? No. He was ignoring him. And Reaver knew for a fact that he _hated_ being ignored.

Sparrow didn't even flinch as the gun clicked in his ear, the trigger cocked and gun ready to go. He merely pointed a finger back and released a small shocking spell, knocking Reaver onto his ass. He could feel the damn anger rolling off of Reaver in waves. It was almost...no it was comical. Yawning he scratched the nape of his neck and shrugged a shoulder back. Reaver wouldn't kill him. If he could he already would have and with great relish. Just as Sparrow couldn't kill the other that easily. That put a damper on his mischevious mood and he sat up grumpily, rubbing an eye and twisting to pop his back. Out of his peripheral he could see Reaver getting back on his feet with a snarl and he knew for a fact this time he would shoot a round into Sparrow's flesh, to maim of course.

The bullet grazed his arm as it lodged itself in his very, very, expensive sofa and Sparrow finally looked at the man. Naked man. Hot naked man. No, not now, he mentally reprimanded himself, settling for folding his arms with hands hooked under his armpits. The playful Reaver was gone, and in its stead was the very serious, very, pissed off Reaver. With a gun. Sparrow cracked his neck. "If this is the way you treat all your lovers, then no wonder why you have to go through so many." Reaver raised a brow, eyes still cold as he smirked. "I go through so many because they usually don't survive me." Sparrow shrugged. "Are you saying you're killing off my people?" His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes were the eyes of King Sparrow, with his people's wellbeing being top priority. He didn't care how good a fuck the man was or if he did need him to sort out the economical pile of shite. Reaver's smirk grew as he airily brushed the hair out of his eyes and continued playing with his bangs.

"Of course not my liege. I'm merely implying they can't handle me. Therefore, they cannot survive the heat of my loins nor heart for an extended period of time." Sparrow doubted that just as he doubted Reaver really meant it when he called him liege, but he had no proof that Reaver was killing them off. The man most likely was, for it was in his very character to be quick tempered and fickle. There was also the blatant lack of morals, unless you could count hedonism as one, which you can't. Sparrow grunted, one hand touching tentatively at the gunshot wound. It was a scratch. Reaver himself had a burn on his prized alabaster skin, by the looks of it...it would scar. Sparrow smirked. One point to him. Very faintly he could hear Theresa chuckling. He wondered if she had watched them fuck. She probably had. She was a voyeur, in essence. Reaver huffed and tapped his foot. The moron was ignoring him again, staring off into space with a dopey grin.

He was probably having a mental discussion with the blind she-witch over their amusing debacle. Reaver knew a manipulator when he saw one, and that women was no more moral then he was. Sparrow yawned, pulling himself off the couch and stretching his arms up to the ceiling. Reaver was momentarily distracted at the sight of all those muscles. Delicious, taught, succulent, morally righteous muscles. Coming forward he placed the Dragonstomper on Sparrow's hipbone and traced it to his navel, the barrel playing with his sire's bellybutton. Sparrow gave him a weird look and shivered, the cold metal of the gun and Reaver's closeness fogging his mind with flashbacks of the previous night. But it wasn't the same night, and his gunshot wound still stung. So, clapping a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, he pulled his face up with a rough hand. He let his eyes remain fogged with desire, and he leaned an inch away from those sinful lips. "Reaver..."

Reaver smirked, his own cold eyes slightly warmer and his dick slightly harder. This was what he was expecting to happen in the first place. "Yes, my liege..." His voice had dropped to his husky bedroom baritone while one hand was placed dangerously close to the king's inner thigh. "Last night was a one time thing you asshole. The gunshot also seriously fucked you over for any repeat performance of anything." Sparrow shoved with all his strength, sending Reaver tumbling back a few feet. Reaver sighed with remorse at the sight of Sparrow pulling his pants back on. "You say that now, but come another dark and dreary night you'll be back in my arms." Sparrow stiffened, but said nothing as his buttoned his pants. He felt this nagging doubt in the back of his head that seemed to agree with the eloquent drawl. His headache was starting to come back and it was barely noon. His temper flared when Reaver pulled him into his arms from behind and nibbled on his ear. "At least let me give you a parting gift." Every voice in his head was screaming for him to refuse, but at the feel of his hands unbuttoning his pants and sliding down, Sparrow gave an inch.

He looked back at Reaver with a smirk. "Blow me." Reaver cocked a eyebrow. "You can't be serious." Reaver had given them before, but only in the manipulation of getting into someone. He didn't hand them out like party favors. Smacking Reaver's hands away, Sparrow grinned. "Guess you don't want a second chance inside me." He was playing a game. He didn't know how desirable he was to Reaver, but it was worth a shot.

Sparrow was expecting the snarl, but not the rapid movement of skin to find Reaver on his knees attacking his buttons. Reaver snarled at one stubborn button resolving the issue by simply ripping the damn thing off and throwing it across the room. Brushing his hair out of his eyes he looked up at the smug king. "Don't you dare try to come on my face. I'll shoot this thing right off." Sparrow coughed, covering his grin and mock seriously nodding. Reaver would have to admit, out of all the few dicks he sucked, there were only one or two that could surpass Sparrow's. It wasn't the biggest thing he had to choke down, but it certainly was one of the more pleasant. Sparrow spent his load rather quickly, but then again he wasn't surprised. After all, it was Reaver did was have sex all the time. Grimacing, Reaver swallowed the load and wiped his hand across his lips. It always tasted horrible.

Sparrow gave him a shit eating grin and re-buttoned his pants up. "Thank you for that gift." "Oh do be quiet. I'm trying to forget I did such a disgusting thing." Reaver smeared at his lips again with a hand and stood up; glancing around for his neat pile of clothes. Sparrow fetched his shirt while Reaver slid his pants on. The brunette glanced back at the ginger and smirked. It seemed the not so high and morally righteous man did enjoy the carnal desserts he offered. It would only be a matter of time before he was sliding in and out of that tight ass. His dick fought to stand at attention at the mention of sex, but Reaver knew better then to allow it to. after all, he had been lucky to give the other man the blow job instead of the other way around. at that note Reaver soured and deigned the man a scowl, shrugging his jacket on. He sniffed and wandered to a window, peeking at the snow and various snow men on the grounds. Reaver rolled his eyes.

"Do you really allow your servants to foolishly squander time?" Sparrow blinked at the man. "If they have all the chores done, what do I care?" Reaver snorted and tapped his foot impatiently. "No wonder the economy is in the gutter. You're allowing them to have breaks. It cuts down on proficiency." Sparrow rolled his eyes and cracked his neck. His headache had vanished with the rest of his spent sperm, and a lot of the tension between the two was gone. He really had to get to work though, and having the temptation bitching in his study wasn't going to help at all. "Well if you want to stare your hatred at the joy of my people, there's other windows. But I must insist you leave, as I have real work to do." Reaver smirked a nasty, nasty, smirk while turning on his heel and following the man to his desk. "That's what I came here to talk about, my dear fellow." His hand rested on the sitting ruler's elbow. Sparrow shrugged it off and grabbed a stack of papers, brows already furrowed in thought.

"Talk then, but make it quick. I'm already behind because of your tomfoolery squandering away my time, as you delicately put it." Reaver sat, no LOUNGED, on his table, legs sprawled open in a devilish invitation with the devil's sneer, blue eyes snapping hellfire at him. Sparrow dimly noticed the man hadn't put on his shirt under his coat as the man's alabaster skin glared at him and mocked him. It aggravated him that the snarky man thought that alone could distract him and tempt him into foolishly giving into his weaker side. It aggravated him even more when he realized that it was working to that goal. "I would dare say you need me back." "You would dare say a lot of things," Sparrow muttered, sniffing and glancing back at his increasingly boring stack of papers. Maybe if he just gave in and had a quickie, things would be better...shaking his head, Sparrow snorted. Damn the man.

Reaver quirked a eyebrow and huffed along his finger nails, buffing them on the black fur of his coat. Sparrow ignored him, only grumbling angrily at the complicated math problems associated with this...scribble of a construction crew's plea for a new pub. Reaver leaned over the scrap of paper only to burst into a peal of dark laughter. "By gods they're dumb! What have you been allowing your people to learn over the past few-" His tirade was interrupted simultaneously by a knock at the door and a punch to the shoulder. The knocking continued. Sparrow gave Reaver a glare like he orchrastrated the unfortunate timing of a visit. The man shrugged and held his hands in a mock apology. Grumbling death threats, Sparrow tried not to limp as he stormed across the room to yank the door open, only to have the overwhelming need to slam it in the occupant's face. Of course Page would like to visit today, along with her piss poor attitude and bitchy mannerisms at gods know what hour. She shoved past him. "Oh just come right in, make yourself comfortable..." He muttered, keeping the door open. He may need to bolt from her bitch fit once she saw what was lounging on his table and the various love bites on his neck.

"I had to break up two fights today. Two! And do you know who started it? Your damn nobles, that's who did! I cannot believe the nerve of-" Page's fists halted in their wild swinging at the sight of her most despised enemy. Lounging on her king's table. With no shirt. And the most disgustingly come hither look on his face. Reaver pursed his lips and blew her a kiss. "Come now love, not all of us nobles are that bad. As I do believe, your king is one. And he isn't that bad a sort I would dare to say." Again with the dares...Sparrow grumbled and slunk to his sofa, massaging his temples, the headache was back. He was beginning to wonder if he took a brick and smashed it into his temple if these damn recurrent headaches would stop. Or he could smash it into the other peoples' temples. Then they would stop talking. And he could even get some peace and quiet...ahhhh...he day dreamed happily until he heard the crack of a gunshot. Reaver was no longer lounging on his table in a carefree manner, and Page had her rifle pointed at the man, a snarl to her lips and a mad gleam to her eye. Sparrow sighed. "That's enough." Reaver's eye twitched. "It's not over until this plebian is dead at my feet." Page smirked, her feet sliding into a fighting position.

"The same for me." Sparrow cracked his neck and let some of his Hero persuasion roll through his voice as he repeated his order. Page swayed, but didn't let go of her gun. Reaver didn't even budge. Sparrow's eye twitched. What was the point in being a ruler when no one listened to him? sometimes he felt like the damn babysitter with spoiled brats as charges. "Reaver has recently been reinstated as controller of the Industry district. Along with-" "He's been what now!" Page's fury was now aimed along the barrel of her rifle at the very agitated ruler. He blinked calmly, shifting so he was peeking at both parties with one eye, the other hand covering the other. Reaver laughed. "I knew it! So, now that that has been settled my dear, you can take your lower class opinions on the work force and shove them up your-" "Along with Page." Reaver's jaw snapped shut before his gun was pointed at Sparrow also. "Explain yourself." Reaver's joyous tone of voice was downright frigid. Sparrow shrugged.

"I need the sense of strict workmanship he can provide. I also need it to be fair workmanship." Reaver snorted while Page kept her rifle pointed at him. It was really getting infuriating. Sparrow cracked his neck. "I can't just let the economy slide into ruin Page." He stared until she huffed and lowered her rifle.

"Fine. But I'm not sharing an office with him." Sparrow smiled, coughing into his hand. Reaver still didn't move, and his eyes were snapping. Sparrow grinned. He could just imagine the man stomping his foot like a spoiled child in rebellion at this stipulation to his warranted throne. Reaver could spit nails. The woman, Page who had to be a lesbian for not falling to his charms, was chattering on and on with growing enthusiasm while he was still being ignored. Sparrow was grinning at him like an idiot. Reaver could feel the back of his neck flush and his finger tightened on the trigger. One shot. One shot and he could...wait. He could make his sovereigns life a living hell if he wanted to. Cocking his head to the side, Reaver holstered his gun and bowed deeply and in a mocking manner. "As you say my king." Sparrow narrowed his eyes but didn't have much of a chance to investigate the sudden change in attitude as Reaver was already sweeping his way out of the room with a shit eating grin. If his king wanted to try and force him into his hand, then Reaver had a few tricks up his sleeve to pull out.

Page watched as her friend stiffened when Reaver brushed past him to get out the door. She wasn't stupid by any means, and a life of growing up with an eye on the nobles had taught the commoner to read in between the lines. Something had happened and something had changed. Reaver seemed more full of shite then usual and her king was on edge. Usually Sparrow approached most things with the regal air of calmness and let's get it solved attitude. But seeing him almost change to the other extreme spectrum of irratibility worried the resistance fighter slightly. She bit her lip but said nothing beyond a parting barb at the hedonist as he disappeared in a whirl of white coat tails and a crude blown kiss. She could have sworn she heard a invite for a threesome, but that would happen over her dead body. More likely his. Her eyes narrowed again and she turned on her heel. "Want to explain to me what he was really doing here?"

Sparrow yawned as he shuffled back to the desk to being reorganizing the disturbed stack of papers. He glanced at her then rolled his eyes. "I don't have to explain anything beyond what I told you." She snorted and crossed her arms, pinning him with a glare. Sparrow sighed. This day was just not going to go his way, was it? The answer was a sad no. He had so hoped to get some work done then rampage the snowy lawn with one of his many offspring but that wonderful day dream was blocked by an angry cloud. An angry cloud with sizable breasts and a growing scowl which would send the Crawler scuttling back to his hole. He gave her a bored stare. "I'm not saying anything else on the matter. Would you like some tea?" It was a sad excuse of a topic change, but he was not discussing last night with her. Ever. In fact, Sparrow would rather have no one know at all. That would be wonderful. No consistent badgering, no shrill shrieks of disgust, no bodily injuries...ah...Theresa tsk tsked in his head but he just ignored her.

Page let a deep breathe out and forced herself to calm. It was obvious Sparrow didn't want to talk about anything and she couldn't force him to. She sniffed. "That would be lovely." It came out as a growl. One of Sparrow's eyebrow's lifted, along with a corner of his mouth. Hie eyes lit up as she flounced to the chair next to the desk and sulked in her seat. "Glad to accomadate you, my dear guest." Page snorted, shaking her head and feeling the weight of her braids as they fell against each other. "You're starting to sound like him. Stop it before I loose my lunch." Both chuckled, the air losing its taught tension. She leaned on an elbow. "May I say something though?" Sparrow hummed, focused now on his work. "If you do fuck him, use a condom. I don't want to think on how many diseases he has." Sparrow snorted, but grinned and flicked the hair out of his eyes airily."I give my solemn word my lady." "You're full of shit."

AN: Writers block has kicked my ass. My apologies.


End file.
